She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. "What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. She was dressed in a little white frock, with a very long body, and very short sleeves, which looked (from a certain fullness about the hips,) as if it was intended to be worn with a hoop. She was fine and tender. She wouldn't be able to pass by anywhere without folks turning their heads.
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